Then came a sanitation supervisor named Ms. Polk.
Then Mr. Harlan.
Then a local officer named Officer Tatum.
No flashing lights.
No drama.
Just a calm woman in a dark uniform with a notebook and a face that gave nothing away.
Silas entered last.
The room shifted when he did.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
People stiffened.
Mrs. Bell clutched her phone tighter.
Aaron looked him up and down.
Silas took the chair closest to the door.
I noticed that.
People who expect to be blamed always sit near exits.
Mr. Harlan cleared his throat.
“We’re here to clarify what happened yesterday afternoon.”
Mrs. Bell spoke before anyone else could.
“I’d like to know why that man was standing in front of a teenage girl’s house.”
That man.
Not Silas.
Not the sanitation worker.
Not the person.
That man.
Silas said nothing.
So I did.
“He was there because I asked him for help.”
